


Wednesday Morning

by cornelius



Series: Cheerleader!Dean tumblr prompts [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cheerleader!Dean, M/M, NFL!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 14:23:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1188492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cornelius/pseuds/cornelius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean hated Wednesdays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wednesday Morning

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt written for my Cheerleader!Dean 'verse. You can find more at my tumblr: s-cornelius.tumblr.com/tagged/cheerleader!dean
> 
> This was originally posted under the title 'Tuesday Morning', but after doing more research on NFL players' schedules (and writing more of the long fic), I changed their schedules around.

Dean hated Wednesdays. Mostly because they followed Tuesdays, and Tuesdays were the best day of the week. Dean had set up his schedule for the fall to best accommodate his cheering schedule, giving him all of Tuesdays and most of Thursdays off. Though it had ended up making his Mondays almost unbearable, with two one-hour classes, a three hour seminar and a morning work out. But it was honestly all worth it to be able to steal away from the campus after class, slip on the back of Cas’ motorcycle and wake up Tuesday morning to blue eyes and a day of rest. Since adding “cheering for a professional football team” to his weekly schedule, he had come to appreciate a quiet Tuesday to unwind and feel like a human again, and part of that routine involved deep soaks in Castiel’s monster jacuzzi tub, eating take out on Castiel’s couches in his den, where the blackout curtains were great for shutting out the rest of the world (and watching movies, of course), and losing himself in measuring ingredients and kneading dough while baking in Castiel’s kitchen.

Of course, the excellent company of a certain sexy and intelligent professional football player didn’t hurt either. Long before cheering for the Angels, Dean had thought the Angels’ rising star cornerback Castiel Novak was attractive in a marble statue kind of way: solid and beautiful and perfectly sculpted, but cold and untouchable. And Dean could admit that when Castiel would be introduced at the beginning of the game (giving his name and university), his intense glare _did things_ to Dean he’d rather other people not know about. But getting to know Castiel was a completely different ball game. Dean was surprised to find how easy it was to talk to Cas about school and life and family, how willing Cas was to talk Dean through math problems and debate interpretations of poetry, and how Cas’ dry humor would make Dean laugh harder than he had in ages. Sometimes Dean felt sorry for the man, with his lifelong controlling mother and her strict schedules planned down to the minute. But other times he was secretly glad that no one else had touched Cas’ life the way Dean had, that Cas hadn’t dated other people, hadn’t had sex with other people. Dean was happy to show him things he’d never seen before (mostly movie and TV shows, but they once went to a ballet and Cas was sworn to secrecy about Dean’s sniffling in the final act) and to experience things for the first time with him. Cas never had practice and Dean never had class on Tuesdays, so no major commitments meant that these days were perfect for staying in their pjs until dinner time watching Twilight Zone reruns, or getting up early and visiting the Natural History Museum, or skinny dipping in Cas’ Olympic-sized pool, or just driving the backroads and open highways of Kansas in Baby.

Even though Cas didn’t have practice or meetings, he would still get in his daily work out in the basement-turned-home-gym on Tuesdays. Cas’ freakin’ huge house was built into a hill, and so the basement gym opened onto a copse of trees and a creek in Cas’ backyard.  One time, and only one time, Dean wandered downstairs, ostensibly to do his reading for English while Cas did strength training. Dean’s plan was to sit in front of the one wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, enjoy the dapple light and burbling of the creek while reading his assigned Robert Frost poems. But this plan only worked for about five minutes, before he heard the soft grunts of Castiel working out. Looking up from his assigned reading, Dean was mesmerized by a shirtless, sweating Cas do some bicep curls and leg extensions, before putting weights on his barbell for bench pressing. Cas only made it through one rep before Dean taking the barbell from him grinding their cocks together. Dean decided going down to the gym was not conducive to his studying after that, though the barbell made a good handhold for sex.

But those were Tuesdays, and today was a Wednesday. Wednesdays usually meant finding all of Dean’s homework (and sometimes clothes) scattered throughout Cas’ house, and rushing off to class or practice, and not seeing each other again until Friday at the earliest. Wednesdays were for quick showers and even quicker breakfasts before pushing Dean out the door with short diatribes about how important his classes are, and no, missing one class isn’t acceptable, even for sex, Dean, and I’ll call you later, so go. So basically, Wednesdays could suck it as far as Dean was concerned.

This Wednesday, however, was the last day of Dean’s fall break, and he had planned to take full advantage of that. He still had cheer practice and Castiel still had practice and football things to take care of in the afternoon, but right now was nine o’clock, and Dean wasn’t going to sleep when they could be engaged in far more interesting activities. Getting Cas on board, though, was a different matter entirely. Dean pulled up the blankets and could see that _some parts_ of Cas were definitely on the same page of Dean, even through Cas’ flannel pajama pants, but once Cas realized he was no longer in his blanket cocoon, he grumbled and snatched of the blankets from Dean, leaving Dean naked and cold and blanketless. Dean huffed and wormed his way under Castiel’s blanket, pressing his naked chest against Castiel’s.

“Cas,” Dean whispered in Castiel’s ear, “Wake up. I’m horny.”

“Go back to sleep, Dean,” Castiel flipped Dean over and wrapped an arm around Dean’s squirming middle. Even if Dean had wanted to go back to sleep, there’s no way he would have been able to sleep with Cas softly breathing in Dean’s ear, and his morning wood settled between Dean’s ass cheeks. Dean, being never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, rolled his hips in small circles, eliciting a gasp from Cas, still half-asleep. Taking that as a good sign, Dean began to grind his hips into Cas’ in earnest, rubbing Cas’ dick along the cleft of his ass. Dean let out a moan, and then suddenly Cas was gone, and Dean whined at the loss of the warm body behind him. Turning over his shoulder to see where Cas went, Cas growled “Stay put!” while he fished through the bedside table drawer for some lube with one hand, and pulled his sleep pants down to mid thigh with the other.

He poured a generous amount of lube on his hand and spread it on his own cock before lining himself up against Dean from shoulders to hips. Dean gasped as Cas’ cool, wet dick started slowly thrusting between the tops of Dean’s ass cheeks and along his lower back, and groaned when Cas reached over Dean’s hip to grasp Dean’s cock in his hand, still wet with lube. His other hand wandered up, alternately grabbing the space where Dean’s shoulder met his neck and running his fingers through the Dean’s hair. Trapped between the solid rock of Cas’ chest at his back and Cas’ steady grip on his cock, Dean felt overwhelmed. Dean had never felt so safe and cared for with a partner before, but here, surrounded by Castiel, being held in Castiel’s arms wasn’t anything like he had planned for this Wednesday morning. He thought that they might exchange blow jobs or fool around in the bath where Cas would take both of them in his enormous hands. But this, this was _intimate_. Dean could feel everything - Cas’ open-mouthed kisses on his neck and the top of his spine, when Cas’ breath would hitch with a well-timed grind of Dean’s hips, the occasional drag of Cas’ cock against Dean’s hole, and Cas’ sure strokes of Dean’s cock. Losing himself in the sensation and security of Cas, Dean was blindsided by his sudden orgasm, and gave a shout as he came and threw his head back onto Cas’ shoulder behind him. Cas snaked his arm under Dean to get a better grip on Dean’s torso as began to thrust against Dean in earnest. It only took a few more thrusts and a soft bite to Dean’s ear lobe, and Cas came, too.  

“Now will you go back to sleep?” Cas asked, wiping his hands on Dean’s stomach and manhandling Dean in to a more comfortable spooning position.

“Mmhmm, whatever you want,” Dean mumbled, already half way there.

Maybe Wednesday wasn’t so bad.

 


End file.
